


Of Valentines and Princesses

by Peggystormborn



Series: Every Time...A Karamel Anthology [31]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/M, KaraMel, KaramelValenteen2020, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:55:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22603591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peggystormborn/pseuds/Peggystormborn
Summary: Kara and Mon-El's plans for a romantic Valentine's Day get derailed by both duty and parenthood.And a young super/Luthor duo are in for a Valentine's they'll never forget...unfortunately for them.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Mon-El
Series: Every Time...A Karamel Anthology [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1092399
Comments: 19
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Valentine's Day, and Mon-El has planned a romantic dinner for the love of his life. Kara, of course, has her own ideas. 
> 
> But when do these two EVER have plans that don't go awry?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the uninitiated:
> 
> Karamel spent 10 years in the future and came back with their 4 kids. At this point in the story they live in Midvale. 
> 
> Their eldest daughter Allie fell for Lex Luthor's son A.J. when they were in high school. Lena adopted him when lex went to prison.
> 
> Alex adopted a son with powers and eventually got married.

Mon-El unlocks the door, balancing shopping bags in his other arm. They're not heavy of course, not for him, just somewhat unwieldy. He has to turn in an awkward sort of way, pulling the keys from the lock and cursing himself for never getting around to installing a smart lock on the front door. Ironic, since during the ten years he and Kara spent in the 31st Century they'd grown quite accustomed to doors simply whooshing open at their approach. He hears her footsteps growing louder as he turns to hang his keys on the metal hook next to their coat rack. 

"Hi, baby," he says reflexively, as he unloads his cargo onto an end table and takes off his coat to hang it up. "Hope you're hungry, because I'm making you a proper Valentine's dinner. Gnocchi from scratch with vodka sauce, my famous chicken marsala, roasted asparagus, and I was going to use the last of those qulos we brought home from Argo to make a tart. I think I've _almost_ got your mother's recipe perfected. Almost. Although I'm not sure I'm getting the spices quite right…" He picks the bags back up, turning toward the kitchen, when he sees her standing in his path, backlit by the light from the next room. 

Wearing something he's never seen before. Something silky and cherry red with lace trim, barely covering her hips, slit entirely down the front with a single ribbon tying it together in a bow between her breasts. Her lips, too, are fiery red, hair blown out and lustrous, her comet blue eyes dark. 

Deer, meet headlights. 

"Hi," she rasps as one side of her mouth creeps up into a sly smile, enjoying his dumbstruck appearance.

"H...hi…" he croaks, as she slowly saunters toward him. "I...um…"

"You know, I _am_ pretty hungry…" she steps into his space, placing her hands gently on his chest, and presses her lips to his. Grocery bags, forgotten for the moment, go crashing to the ground with a loud crunch (so much for the eggs). His arms wrap around her, pulling her toward him and kissing her as she lifts up onto her tiptoes, mouth opening in not-so-subtle invitation. 

When he has the wherewithal to pull away, breathless, she chuckles at the sight of his mouth, now smudged heavily with her own lipstick. 

"Wow," he says with contentment, head swimming a bit, eyes unfocused as he gazes at her. She erupts in a toothy smile, and reaches down to grab his hand and pull him upstairs to their bedroom. She loves that she can still affect him like this, even after more than twenty years of marriage.

"Wait," he says, higher brain functions attempting to cut through his makeout-induced haze. "Where are the kids?"

She shrugs playfully. "John, Zora and Xander are all at the school Valentine's dance, and Allie's on a date."

"Date?" he inquires, his stupor quickly diminishing, replaced by the guarded demeanor typically shared by fathers of teenage girls. "Date with who?" 

"A.J." Kara says nonchalantly. 

"A.J….Luthor?" 

Kara laughs out loud. "How many other A.J.s do you know that might be on a date with our daughter?"

"Why's he even here?"

"He's home from Oxford for a few days to help Lena with...I dunno, something. Frankly, I think she just missed her baby and couldn't wait until spring break...or, you know, whatever they have in England...so she made up some silly pretense to get him to come home." She shakes the mild accusation away with a wave of her hands. "But anyway, he and Allie went out to dinner and a movie."

"But...I thought they broke up when he went off to school."

"They did, but...you know…"

"Know what?"

"Well...I mean, they still love each other."

"You think?" 

Kara tilts her head at him, with mild disbelief. "Do you _not_ think? You remember how they were together."

"Yeah but Kara...I don't know how I feel about this."

"What do you mean?" Kara's eyebrows knit together. "He's a nice, respectful young man and he genuinely cares about her. Better she's out with him than some of those obnoxious boys she goes to school with."

"Kara, she cried for a _week_ straight when he left. I just...I don't want her to get hurt, that's all. I mean...Valentine's Day dinner and movie? Doesn't really scream 'just friends.'"

Kara sighs, tilting her head sympathetically. "I know, love, but they're adults now…"

"...She's eighteen and he's nineteen. They're only just barely of age."

"Baby," she exhales, touching his cheek gently with her fingers. "It's up to them to figure all this stuff out. We can't do it for them."

His shoulders slump slightly. "Yeah, okay. I guess you're right."

"As usual," she says smugly. "Now come on, let's go celebrate our anniversary."

"Anniversary?"

"Our first night together was the Day of the Valenteen, remember? Fifteen years ago."

"Not counting the decade we spent in another century. Plus an extra seven for me."

"Precisely. Now come on, you should have a much easier time tearing my clothes off this year. Just…no _actual_ tearing, please? This thing was expensive."

She pulls him back to her, pressing her lips back against his, nails scratching up and down his back hard enough he worries she might rip his shirt to shreds. Not that he'd care. 

He's just removed his hand from her waist and slides it upwards along her belly toward the ribbon that's standing between him and her bare skin, when…

_RINGringRINGringRING…_

"MOTHERF…" Kara bites her own lip to stop herself from ruining the moment entirely with an uncharacteristic blue streak. 

"That's the uh…" her husband starts.

"Emergency beacon. For the DEO. Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it. It must be important or Alex wouldn't let them call me."

"Do you want me to…?"

"No, I'll go. You stay here and start making dinner."

He nods and kisses her again, a chaste peck this time instead of the tongue wrestling they engaged in earlier. But...he lingers, just a moment.

"Ugh…" she groans with a pout. "Unfair."

"Go on," he shoos her away. There will be time for literal mother effing later."

"Ha, ha," she sing-songs. "I'll hold you to that."

"You can hold me to whatever you want, baby," he purrs. 

"Damn you, Daxamite."

He waggles his eyebrows playfully as she rolls her eyes, then speeds into her supersuit and out the door. 

Left to sort out the groceries, he assesses the damage (a few eggs cracked, but still salvageable for his purposes) and gets started with producing mixing bowls and appropriate pans and such.

Until his phone rings. It's her.

"Hey love," she sighs mournfully. "No rush on dinner. There's a huge problem downtown I need to deal with. 

"What is it?" he wonders. "Do you need help?"

"No, no. It's just...a truck full of kortuxxes en route to the farm auction overturned and they're running amok all over the place. It's...a mess. They're fast and attracted to heat sources so they keep attaching themselves to passing cars and crawling up into the engine. We're putting up a perimeter around the area but...it's gonna take at least a few hours to find them all and get them back into their cages. Hopefully they don't bite anyone in the meantime."

"Are you sure you don't want me to…?"

"Nah...you don't have x-ray vision, I'm the only one that can see where they're hiding."

"Right. Well...see you when I see you?"

"I'll get home as soon as I can. I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"I understand. I love you."

"Love you, too."

She hangs up, and he sighs with disappointment before proceeding, with regret, to put the food he's been preparing away. 

He hears another ring, and his heart lifts for a moment, before realizing it's not Kara, but rather an unknown number. For a moment he toys with not answering. Could be a spam call or wrong number. 

But his curiosity gets the better of him, and he clicks the button. 

He hears a distantly familiar voice on the other end before he even has a chance to say anything. 

"Hello? Uh...is this...Mon-El?" 

"Mon...um…" he stammers, still trying to place the low, slightly raspy tone of the woman's voice. Obviously it's someone who knows his real name isn't Mike Matthews (or, rather, Mike Danvers since his return to the 21st Century). 

Reading his confusion, she clarifies. "It's Maggie. Maggie Sawyer. Long time, man…"

"Oh...OH!" His eyes go wide. "Maggie...wow! It's...yeah...a _very_ long time. What's...uh...going on?"

"Um…Kara's not around, is she?"

"Well, no...she just left. Why?"

"Because I have someone here with me that says she's the daughter of Kara Danvers. But she asked me to call you, specifically…her father, you know…MIKE."

"Yeah...I, uh...guess that requires some explanation…"

"I'm a detective, man. I kinda got the idea when a certain blonde teenage superhero started flying around with the two of you stopping bank robbers and putting out fires. Not the toughest case I ever cracked. Though it is a _bit_ interesting that her driver's license says she was born a couple years _before_ the day I happen to know that you crashed down here. NCPD had to clean that mess up, you know."

"Oh, right." he cringes. "Sorry?"

She chuckles over the line. "Eh, no worries. Anyway, I, uh…I'm calling because I need you to come pick up Allie here. And, if you could, her little...friend or whatever."

"What do you mean? Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine, it's just, uh...well, I'm actually the Sheriff up in Yima County now, and...one of my deputies brought her in."

"Brought her in where?"

He hears a slightly frustrated sigh through the line. "Mon-El, she's...she's been arrested."

There's a moment of heavy silence before he answers. 

"I'll be right there," he says stoically. 

"In an _automobile_ , please," she responds.

"Yeah, okay." 

He hangs up the phone, nearly crushing it in the process, and speeds off to grab his keys. 

********

He asks for Maggie with the Desk Sergeant, who nods and points the way to the boss's office. Clearly, his arrival was expected. 

He hears her before he sees her, scribbling out paperwork and occasionally barking orders from her desk, coffee cup long forgotten next to her computer. 

"Hey, there," she says without looking up, before he even has a chance to knock. She's older, of course. Some grey streaks in her black hair, a few lines around her eyes. But she's still...recognizably Maggie.

"Should I call you Sheriff, then?" he half-smiles. 

"If you want," she beams back, gesturing for him to have a seat across from her, "Everyone else does."

"How've you been?"

"Can't complain." She shrugs amicably. "You...wow...you literally haven't aged, have you?"

"No, I have. But, you know, I always _was_ a little slow."

She chuckles and grabs her cold coffee, wincing slightly when she takes a sip. "Don't freak out, will you? Like I said, she's okay. Mostly just embarrassed."

"What happened...exactly?" he asks, with some trepidation. 

"Well, I was actually just about to go home for the day, when wouldn't you know, I see across the bullpen a familiar-looking, extremely mortified young woman in glasses, led in by Deputy Flanagan. Well, my detective senses started tingling, so I came over and asked her name, and she said Allie Danvers. And I wondered if maybe perhaps she happened to be related to one Ms. Kara Danvers. Of course, she was...and an hour later here we are."

"Guess it's a good thing she looks like my wife."

"If I'm being honest it's...pretty uncanny."

"I've never quite gotten over it myself," he chuckles. 

"So...Allie...and you've got a few more, right? The newest ones that started flying around with you last year, the two with the dark hair, they must be twins, yeah?" 

"Yup. Zora and Xander."

"Guess they take after the Daxamite side, huh?"

"Unfortunately for them…"

She smiles coyly. "Seems like they're doing okay. I saw them myself not that long ago, rescuing people after the earthquake that hit near Laredo."

"They're great kids. I'm a...very lucky man."

"Wow. Three little supers, huh? That must have been a...whole thing…" she shakes her head with some awe.

"Four, actually. The youngest is fourteen. And the rule in our family is you don't get your supersuit until at least your fifteenth birthday."

"Well, you gotta have a system…"

He chuckles lightly before his face falls. "So...what did Allie, uh…"

Maggie holds up her hand, cutting him off. "I intervened before they could file a report, so there won't be a record. But, she...uh...they picked her and her boyfriend up for...well…"

"What?" Mon-El gulps. 

"Trespassing, and...indecent exposure."

"Oh, Rao…" he drops his head into his hands, eyes squeezed shut. "So they were…"

"They were found by a security guard patrolling over in Fairview Park, he called it in, and we had a unit nearby, so...they got picked up. Unfortunately, because they were within 500 yards of a playground, our policy is normally to bring them in and file charges."

"MOTHERF…" he starts, rubbing his temples. 

"...Whoa, now...you kiss your wife and children with that mouth?" She can't help cracking up at her own joke, but the Daxamite isn't amused. 

"Maggie…"

"Look, you got lucky. I happen to think this policy is idiotic, but we had a serial flasher running around a year or two ago, and had to do something to calm down the Board of Supervisors. So, like I said. No charges." She shrugs and takes another sip of her cold coffee, wincing a second time as though she's forgotten in the last five minutes.

"Thank you, Maggie. Really."

"Hey, what's a little nepotism between friends?"

"Can I take her home?"

"Yeah, I'll have someone grab the two of them out of lockup. It'll just take a few minutes."

"Seriously, thanks. I owe you one."

"I'm just glad I was on duty tonight. I would have felt pretty bad if Supergirl and Valor's kid got added to the sex offender list on my watch."

Mon-El closes his eyes and groans. 

"Can I ask a few things, though…quick and dirty answers only...no pun intended, sorry…" 

He sighs heavily. "Shoot."

"How exactly do you two have an eighteen year old?"

"Time travel."

"Huh." Her eyes go as wide as he's seen them. "That's...a new one…" 

He shrugs, with some exhaustion. 

"Right. And how are you _breathing_ here?"

"Got cured. Serum with Kara's blood in it."

"Cute. And also gross."

"Thanks?"

"Okay, last one...do you seriously let your daughter date Lex Luthor's kid?"

"He's Lena's kid. She adopted him."

"Yeah, okay. Fair. But still...yowza."

"You don't know the half of it."

She laughs again, and gestures to a young officer through her glass door, who nods and heads over to retrieve the young couple from holding. 

"Are you…" Mon-El ventures, when she turns back toward him. 

"What?"

"I'm just a little surprised you haven't asked about…"

"...Alex?"

"Yeah...sorry, I probably shouldn't have brought her up."

"No, it's okay. I was...struggling with whether to say anything. Is she… _how_ is she?"

"Great," he smiles. "She's doing really well." 

"Good," Maggie gulps slightly. "That's good. Did she ever...get to be a mother? Like she wanted?"

"She did, yeah...a son, Conner. He's super, too, actually."

She smiles, wistfully. "That's…awesome. I'm really happy for her."

"...Do you want me to...tell her anything?"

"No...I mean...I don't know. Maybe it's better if you just…don't even mention you saw me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I don't...I don't want to make her feel weird."

"Oh." Mon-El deflates slightly. "Okay."

Maggie smiles awkwardly, then nods as she rises from her seat and turns to show him out. 

Just then, a commotion erupts from the bullpen.

"EVERYONE FREEZE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE BLOWN TO HELL!" a voice booms. "Now if you all just stay put and do as we say, no one gets hurt, got it?"

Maggie grabs her service weapon and does her best to push Mon-El against a wall where he won't be seen. Though her arms aren't strong enough to make him move, he plays along. 

"Press the panic button under my desk," she loud-whispers, and it's done in a whoosh before she can even finish getting the thought out. "Okay, now don't...do…ANYthing...got it?" Daxamite nods an acknowledgement. "I _mean_ it. Let _me_ handle this, you understand?" He nods again, with more emphasis, to her apparent satisfaction. 

"Who's in charge here?" the voice calls out. 

" _I_ am," she carefully opens the door and emerges from her office, hands up, to see three masked figures, with high-caliber weapons, one in what appears to be a suicide vest, wires protruding from packs of explosives. A dozen or so officers point weapons in their direction, which doesn't appear to phase them in the slightest.

"Sheriff Sawyer. Good. Tell your officers to holster their weapons and put their hands up."

"Do as he says," she instructs, to the room. The men and women in uniform reluctantly comply, and after a moment, the room is full of angry-looking people with hands in the air. 

"Good call," the man in charge growls. "Now there's a prisoner transport scheduled to arrive for a stopover in less than five minutes. All we want is one person from that bus, and we'll be on our way."

"Which prisoner?" Maggie asks. 

"Ain't none of your concern, Sheriff. We'll grab him ourselves."

Staring daggers at the masked man, she shrugs. "Guess you're in charge."

"Damn right. Now line up, all of you, you're going into holding. Shorty, why don't you relieve them of those firearms they're all wearing. They look awfully heavy, you know. Oh, and take their phones and radios while you're at it. Can't have them calling in backup."

The officers line up, as directed, their faces dark and frustrated, and one of the other assailants takes each of their guns and radios, one by one, putting them into a large canvas bag. 

"There's not enough room in holding," Maggie notes. "Been a busy night. The officers won't all fit in there." She's right, the three cells already contain more people than they probably should. Mon-El wonders if Valentine's Day is normally a big night for street level crime for some reason, or if it's always like this. 

"What about that cell on the end?" he argues. "That one looks pretty empty." 

Mon-El, even from his poor vantage point hiding in Maggie's office, sees his friend's demeanor change. To one of fear. 

"That one's out of service," she argues. "Lock's broken."

"Is it now? Well, let's see…" he gestures to the man with the sack, the one they're calling "Shorty," who points his weapon at the officers while backing down the narrow hallway toward the cell at the end of the row. 

"We got two kids in here," Shorty says. 

"Kids, huh? Well let's have a look. Come on out, you two."

Allie Danvers and A.J. Luthor emerge from behind bars, slightly disheveled with panicked looks on their faces. Mon-El feels his heart pound in his chest, even though he knows his daughter, an invulnerable alien, isn't about to die from getting shot or blown up. Though he can't say the same for the Luthor boy, since he's just a regular human being. 

"Okay, cops. Pile down into that cell."

The officers look at each other and at him, and he raises his hand up to show them the dead man switch he holds in one hand. 

"Don't anyone start having thoughts about playing the hero. Because if anything happens to me, this whole place goes boom."

Shorty butts his rifle to the back of A.J.'s head, causing him to flinch in pain. He takes the hint, though, and shuffles back toward the bullpen as the officers walk single file into the holding cell. Shorty, grabbing keys from one of them, locks the door and breaks off the key, to the vocal protest of the cell's new inhabitants.

"They ain't getting out of there any time soon," he snickers. 

"All right," he hands Maggie a radio. "You, hail the transport and see where they are."

"I already know. They called half an hour ago and said the bus broke down up on Route 42. So they won't be here for hours."

Even through the mask, the change in the man's mood is obvious. "Well, then. I guess we wait."

"How long you think before someone outside this building figures out what's going on in here?" she asks. "This isn't the only precinct we have, you know. And there's a shift change coming soon."

"I trust you can find a way to keep this place locked down. Until we get what we want. And if not…"

"You gonna blow yourselves to hell along with the rest of us just for one prisoner?"

"Don't have to. I have other leverage now." He nods in the direction of the teens, and one of his associates points a gun at Allie's head. She flinches slightly, though it's clear to both Maggie and Mon-El that she's playing along for show. She knows very well that gun can't hurt her. Although should she be revealed as an invulnerable alien, her human identity--in fact, the whole family's identity--would be compromised. 

Maggie stands with her hands still up, looking slowly back and forth at the lay of the room. Mon-El can practically hear the gears turning in her head as she scrambles to figure out the best course of action. He knows she's dealt with hostage situations before, at least one of which Kara derailed by barging in uninvited and doing more than a little damage in the process. He wants to give her her lead here, though his willpower not to step in is starting to break. After all, that's his little girl out there, indestructible or no. 

Maggie takes a deep breath, before taking a chance. "The prisoner you want…by any chance is it...Rick Malverne?"

The man's spine straightens. _Ding ding ding._

It takes Mon-El a moment before he remembers. _Malverne…where have I…Oh Rao..._

The man who kidnapped Alex, in an effort to get his father released from jail. He almost succeeded, in fact, when Maggie made an attempt to bust him out, thinking it her only option to save her then-girlfriend. If not for Kara's intervention he would have gone free, and Maggie most likely would have been the one going to prison. 

"What's it to you?" the ringleader asks.

"I have a personal interest, let's say, in keeping him locked up. I specifically requested his transfer come through here so I could make sure it went smoothly."

"Fascinating."

"And I happen to recall that he had a father...one who was due for parole just a few months past."

The man stares her down. "You don't say."

Maggie ventures a small step forward. "Look, if you leave with me, right now, I'll take you to the transport and make sure he goes home with you. 

"Sure you will."

"We've danced this dance before, remember, Peter?"

The man sighs deeply, and removes his mask. "I just want my son back. You people have had him in custody for nearly fifteen years. Lawyer says he doesn't even remember what he did."

"He's a kidnapper. It's a twenty year minimum sentence, whether he recalls doing it or not."

"He's my _son_. And I promised him I'd always rescue him, no matter what."

"Even if you have to hurt other people to do it?"

"I'll do what I damn well _have_ to." He steps to the side at that and grabs Allie by the arm. "I like your plan to go to the bus, but here's the thing. THIS girl's coming with us, not you. The boy, too."

"Wait!" A.J. says. "My family has a lot of money, and about a thousand lawyers on staff…we can...put our best people on your son's case, file an appeal, whatever it takes...just don't...don't hurt her…don't hurt anyone…"

"That so?" Peter says, with feigned intrigue. "What family is that?"

A.J. looks around nervously. "We...my aunt runs...LCorp."

"Shit," one of the other men says. "He's Luthor's kid. I read about him."

"I'm sure as hell not crossing Lex Luthor," Shorty shakes his head. "That guy's psychotic and he practically runs Arkham."

Peter nods in agreement. "Yeah, you're right about that. Just the girl, then."

"Wait!" Mon-El shouts as he emerges from Maggie's office. He can hear her cursing under her breath, clearly livid that he's ignored her very clear instructions. "Take me, instead."

"Dad, no!" Allie squeaks out, before her face scrunches into a deep cringe, immediately realizing her mistake. 

"Daddy, huh? What are you, 35? At most?" Peter says, amused. "That tracks, I suppose. By the looks of these two, guess the whoring around starts pretty young in your family, huh?"

Mon-El stifles a growl at the man's insinuation. "Look, I'm not a cop, I'm unarmed, and I know the roads pretty well around here. I can help you find what you're looking for."

"Nah, I think I'm gonna stick with my own plan." He takes a handgun from his belt, placing it to Allie's temple. She cringes and her face twists into a deeply uncomfortable expression, though it certainly has more to do with this loathsome stranger touching her than the presence of the gun threatening her. 

"Please, let's talk about this," Maggie implores. "I can negotiate…"

"...Enough talking. Sheriff, take Daddy and loverboy into your office there. And we'll be taking all your weapons and comm devices off your hands, too."

After a few moments spent roughly ushering Maggie, A.J. and Mon-El into the office, ripping the phone from the wall, and confiscating cell phones and anything that might be construed as a weapon, the assailants cuff the three, lock them in, and leave the station. 

The moment Mon-El hears the front door of the building shut, he snaps the cuffs off his wrists like they're made of balsa wood, then goes to help Maggie and A.J.

"Don't break mine, please, just get the damn key, there's one in my desk," she grumps. Noting his skeptical reaction, she adds "I'm trying to keep the equipment budget under control." Mon-El rolls his eyes and complies. 

"Now what?" he asks when both are free, though he's really addressing Maggie. 

"Now we go after them," A.J. says with determination, though his hands are shaking slightly--most likely from shock--as he reaches underneath his jacket to retrieve a 9mm handgun from the inner pocket. Evidently, neither police nor criminal element deemed him enough of a threat to bother checking his person for firearms. 

"...Are you freaking kidding?" Maggie says, dumbfounded. "You've had that on you this entire time and you didn't say anything?"

A.J. shrugs, looking like an overgrown schoolboy. "No one asked."

"Jesus, whoever did your intake is so _fired_..." Maggie mutters.

"You had that thing while you were on a date with my daughter?" Mon-El stares the young man down with some amount of venom.

"What?" he balks. "Am I the only one who remembers when my Dad's goons tried to off me? Lena _gave_ it to me! I carry it for protection!"

"Protection?" the Daxamite scoffs. "Because _that_ makes sense when you're out and about with a woman who can shoot _lasers_ from her eyes."

The young man shrugs again, even more sheepishly.

"Hand it over," Maggie holds out her hand to the younger man. "And then we'll figure out what to do."

For a moment, A.J. appears to clutch the thing protectively, before relenting. Unfortunately, his adrenaline still surging from the panic of wondering what's happening to Allie, he inadvertently squeezes the trigger as he attempts to engage the safety. 

Then several things happen at once. A loud bang, a scream, and a great deal of cursing, to name a few. 

Frozen in shock, A.J. can't help but stare down at Maggie, frantically wrapping a tourniquet made of her own shirt sleeve around Mon-El's thigh. 

Wincing in pain, the Daxamite groans as she tightens the knot. "You know," he croaks, hoarsely. "This is actually the second time I've been shot by a Luthor. Zero stars, do not recommend."

"Enough with the funny talk, dumbass," Maggie growls. "Let me get this tied before you lose any more blood."

"Oh, SHIT!" the young Luthor screams, his mind finally catching up to what's transpired, and he drops the gun on the floor like a hot potato. 

"This kid's father is an evil genius?" Maggie shares a skeptical look with Mon-El. "Seriously?"

"Don't get me started," the Daxamite groans. 


	2. Chapter 2

" _I'msorryI'msorryohgodI'msosorry…_ " A.J. repeats on a loop, as Maggie finds the first aid kit in her desk, removes a large pair of tweezers and begins to dig out the bullet from Mon-El's leg.

"Kid, can you shut the hell up? I'm trying to concentrate," Maggie scolds as she continues her work. He clamps his trap shut, but she can practically hear him humming with panic, to the point she begins to worry he may pass out.

"Ow!" Mon-El winces when the metal tines miss their mark.

"Sorry, think I almost got it…THERE." She grips the slug, tugs on it as his face contorts in pain, before finally pulling it free and dropping the whole bloody mess on top of her desk. 

"You okay?" she wonders.

"Yeah, it'll heal quickly," he replies.

"I...I thought you weren't allergic any more," A.J. inquires, tentatively. 

"To trace amounts in the air," he clarifies. "Bullets are a different story."

"Mr. Danvers, I'm so…"

"Say you're sorry _one_ more time and I swear I'll put those cuffs back on you. With a gag this time."

"I'm sor…" he starts, before course-correcting. "Right, okay, so how do we get Allie back?"

" _We_ don't," Maggie stares the boy down, and turns to Mon-El. "Look, you pressed the panic button a while ago, right? So dispatch should have already deployed units and diverted the transport."

"I thought it broke down?" the young Luthor asks. 

"That was a little something we in law enforcement like to refer to as bullshitting," she snarks, turning to Mon-El. "But what we really need, much as I hate to admit it, is your wife."

"Kara's in National City, but she can be here in a snap."

"Do we...do we have to?" A.J. wonders.

"Why wouldn't we?" Mon-El wonders. 

"Allie...she didn't…she didn't want her mom to know. What happened tonight."

The Daxamite tilts his head and glares at the boy. "Which part, the part where you were fucking my daughter, or the part where you got her arrested?"

"I...I didn't...she...it was _her_ idea!"

"Oh, I see, now you're not even going to take _responsibility_?"

"No! I mean yes...I am…it's just...I swear it's not like I pressured her, and we barely even got anywhere anyway!"

Mon-El lets out a low growl and rubs the bridge of his nose. "What _exactly_ about our current situation makes you think I'm looking for details here…"

"Oh, crap, I'm so sss…."

Mon-El holds his finger up in warning, and the young man clams up. 

Maggie rolls her eyes, looking like she's about ready to knock their heads together. "All right, enough...look, I know they can't hurt Allie, but we need to get her out of there before she gets found out."

"Yes, _thank_ you," Mon-El says. "Now do you want me to break your glass door or will that cut into your budget too much?"

"Just do it," she grumps. With that, Mon-El scooches over along the floor until he's within an arm's reach of the glass, and does nothing more than flick the thing with his finger. It shatters immediately, cascading down on his head, requiring him to shake his hair like a dog to dislodge the shards. 

"Thanks," Maggie says. "I'll grab a desk phone and call Kara. Kid, you stay here and make sure he doesn't start bleeding again. And, you know, try not to put any more holes in him, will you?"

She steps through the broken door frame and goes out in search of a working phone. 

The two men sit in silence for a few moments, trying to figure out what the hell to even _say_ to each other. 

"She called _you_ , you know," A.J. finally ventures. 

"What?" the Daxamite asks, closing his eyes as though wishing he were literally anywhere else. 

"Allie...she asked the Sheriff to call you. Instead of her mom."

"So? She probably thought Kara would be busy. Which she is."

"No...she called you because...she trusted you to understand. She was afraid Mrs. Danvers would...you know…"

"...Freak out?"

"...Yeah."

"Well, I gotta be honest, I'm not...whatever the opposite of freaked out is."

"I really am sorry. I know you told me not to say it but...I am."

Mon-El sighs heavily. "I know. Look...I realize you two are technically grown ups now, but…I'm never going to stop worrying about her. Maybe you'll see someday if you ever become a parent. No matter how old they get, they're always your baby."

"I…I get that. I guess."

"What are you going to say to _your_ parents? About this?"

Now it's A.J.'s turn to groan. "Do I really have to tell them?"

"Technically I guess not, but...these things have a way of coming out. One way or another. Kara is probably not going to like the idea of keeping this from her best friend."

"...Yeah…oh, God…James, he'll just be weird about it, but Lena...she's gonna go _ballistic_ …"

"She might surprise you, you know. She's not your father."

"I know, it's just…she gets a little sensitive about our family name and bad press. Me getting arrested would be...not good."

Out of nowhere, Mon-El bursts out laughing.

"What?" A.J. wonders, confused.

"I can see the headline now…Supervillain Son Caught Red Handed Having Consensual Sex…"

"Which, again, it _was_ …" he implores. "I _swear_."

Mon-El's laughter stops. "Yeah, I get _that_ part. What I _don't_ get is why you two are doing this when you…" he trails off. "Never mind, it's not my place."

"...No, what? When we're..."

"...When you're not _together_. You broke up with her. Remember?"

"No, I didn't...it was _mutual_ …"

"Yeah, well tell that to her pillowcase that went into the laundry streaked with mascara and tears."

"She...she was…"

"... _Devastated,_ A.J., she was _devastated_."

"Well...so was I, okay? We just…we agreed that it wasn't going to work, it's, you know...it's too _hard_ right now."

"...I understand."

"I...I still love her, you know? Like, _so_ much."

He turns his eyes sympathetically toward the boy. "Look, Kara and I...we had a lot of years apart. Learning to live without her was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Moving on…it's never easy. But you're young, you have long lives ahead of you. And you have to do what's right for yourselves right now."

"But you didn't move on. Right? I mean you never stopped loving Allie's mom…"

"...No, I never did."

"...What if...what if she totally falls out of love with me...and I just, like... _never_ get over her?" His voice breaks at this, as he visibly struggles to hold it together. 

"A.J., are you ready to say, right now, that you two should spend the rest of your lives together?" Mon-El says gently. 

The younger man hangs his head. "...No."

Mon-El reaches over and grabs A.J.'s shoulder. "You two have to work on yourselves for a while. Then someday, maybe when you've both settled into being whoever you're going to be...maybe it'll work out. But until then…"

"...No more fooling around in public parks?"

"I would _very_ much appreciate that, yes."

"Okay," Maggie says, returning through the broken door. "Well, there's good news and bad news. The good news is Kara's on her way and I also got a call from Allie, who grabbed the wheel mid-abduction and crashed the car they were in."

"That's the _good_ news?" Mon-El says, incredulous.

"Well, yeah, man, she's obviously not hurt. And she managed to knock out all the masked idiots in the accident, without them finding out about her powers."

"Okay, so what's the bad news?" the Daxamite asks. 

"The bad news is they stole one of my unmarked squad cars. Do you have _any_ idea how much those things cost?"

Mon-El rolls his eyes. "We _really_ should hang out more often, you know…"

********

The drive home is one of the most awkward hours in all of their lives. Kara, after dealing with the bad guys at the scene and subsequently having the entirety of the situation explained to her by her husband, had turned immediately beet red and ceased all communication. Eyes wide and face unreadable, she'd merely approached the young not-a-couple and pointed with shaking finger at the family car. They silently (and quickly) complied, eyes cast squarely down at their shoes. 

No one spoke on the way home to Midvale. Mon-El, for his part, was mostly relieved that everyone was safe. Though he didn't relish having to deal with Kara's inevitable blow-up, nor her excessive fussing over his gunshot wound, which thankfully seemed to be healing even more quickly than last time, thanks to his improved resistance to lead. However, he was certain she'd make him take a booster shot of his lead cure serum, and yell at him for not having it handy. Not being on duty this evening, it simply hadn't occurred to him to bring all his normal superhero accoutrements along. 

Finally, Kara parks the car in their suburban driveway, teenage lovers hustling out to say a quick goodbye before A.J. hops on his motorcycle to head back to the Luthor-Olsen penthouse in National City. 

"Not so fast, there, Romeo…" Kara icily stops him as he turns to grab his helmet. "You can come pick up your bike tomorrow. But right now _I'm_ taking you home so I can have a quick conversation with you, James and Lena about teenagers and gun safety. Among _other_ things."

A.J. silently nods, wearing the face of a man on his way to the gallows. He takes a quick look at Allie, silently pleading for help, but all she can do is shrug helplessly and bite her lip with sympathy. She watches as her mother gruffly grabs the man she loves around the shoulders and takes to the sky. 

Mon-El sighs as he watches them go, and turns to wrap an arm around Allie for support as he limps toward the front door. "Come on, pumpkin. I'll make you some hot cocoa." 

" _I'll_ make the hot cocoa," she says with exhaustion matching his.

She heats up milk and mixes the powder in, fishing a bag of marshmallows from the cabinet. They sit at the kitchen table with their mugs, his leg propped up on a chair. 

She sees a smile creep up one side of his face as he stares wistfully at his drink. 

"What?" she wonders, head quirking to one side. 

"Nothing, just...I remembered that the last time I had a bullet hole in my leg...I, uh...well, that was the night I realized I was in love with your mother."

"Really?" 

"Yeah, it was when we got captured by your boyfriend's…"

"...Grandmother. Lillian. I know the story."

"Right."

"...He's not my boyfriend. Just...to clarify."

"I know. Are you...okay?" 

"Yeah...I...ummm...it was a…lapse in judgment. I'm…I'm sorry…"

"Allie, you don't have to apologize to me."

"It feels like I should. You had to come all the way up there and…you know, hostage situation and gunshot wound aside, weird as _that_ is to say...it must not have been fun for you."

"Not really, no, but…you're not a child any more, and I'm certainly not judging you for making choices that adults make."

"Thanks, Dad." She stirs the brown liquid in her cup, sighing and pushing it away before groaning, flopping her folded arms down on the tabletop and burying her face in them. Mon-El reaches over to rub her shoulder sympathetically. 

"Mom's totally gonna kill me, isn't she?" Her voice begins to break at this, her speech still muffled by her own arms.

"Hey, hey, no she's not. She loves you, and all she wants is your happiness. That's all either of us want."

"I just…" she whimpers, picking her head back up with visible effort, her eyes red and welling. "I _hate_ that she knows now...that I'm not, you know, a virgin. She's always been...like, weird and uncomfortable about stuff like that. And I...I can't stand feeling like she's... _disappointed_ in me."

"She could _never_ be disappointed in you," he reassures, taking her hand. "Not for something like this. It's just...awkward. That's all. Kryptonians...didn't really...I mean, sex wasn't a big part of their culture. Everything there was...practical, you know? Controlled. Buttoned-up, for lack of a better term. She wasn't raised to value sex as a good in and of itself. Many Kryptonians, I've heard, just...didn't _ever_ have sex. There wasn't any need to for procreation, and doing things like that just for fun…well, it wasn't their _way._ You know?"

"Yeah, sounds about in line with how things are on Argo."

"Argo...the destruction changed their priorities, I think. They tend to be a little more focused on living in the now...now." He looks at the ceiling, second guessing his phrasing before waving the thought away. "But…they're still Kryptonians." He half-smiles at her.

She shifts in her seat. "What about...Daxam? You don't talk about that place much, but...I read a lot about it. In the archives at the Fortress. How things... _were_ there."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" He grins at her with mock innocence and lifts his mug to take a sip.

"Ugh…please don't make me say it…"

He smiles at her as she averts her eyes and scratches her arm uncomfortably. Nodding, he says, "We valued pleasure pursuits there, in all their forms. Sometimes...or, well, _often_ , that is...to our own detriment."

"You mean the drugs?"

"Yes, but the sex, too. It wasn't a fulfilling lifestyle in general." He chuckles lightly when she makes a grossed out face. "Honey, the irony is that as much as my people ostensibly valued happiness, I never found it there. I was miserable. I never had a satisfying, rewarding life until I found your mother. And even then, you know, there were a lot of bumps along the way."

"So, are you just, like, cool with me having sex, then?" 

"That's...not an easy question to answer. If you'd asked me before I ever came to this planet, I would have said 'who cares?' But…families were different there. I mean, don't get me wrong, I loved my parents, as terrifying and awful as they were. But...we didn't value familial bonds the same way. I wouldn't have been as involved in your life as I am here. Coming to Earth, falling in love with your mom, having you and your siblings…it's a life I could never have _imagined_ back then. And everything I know about being a parent...I had to learn here. Or...through Kara."

"You learned about fatherhood from Mom?"

"I learned about _love_ from her. What it meant, how to do it. What you owe to the people you care about. I wasn't very good at it to begin with. Made a lot of mistakes."

Allie smiles knowingly. "Yeah, that's come up more than a few times."

He snickers a little. "It's...been hard to reconcile, being a dad with...the things I was taught when I was young. I feel like a bit of a hypocrite sometimes."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean there's a not-small part of me that _does_ wish you wouldn't have sex. But understand, it's not because I want to control you, or because I'm judging you for doing it, and I certainly don't begrudge you making the same kind of choices I was making when I was even younger than you."

"Ugh...gross…"

"Allie...you having sex means you're making adult choices. It's...emblematic of the fact that you don't _need_ us like you did when you were a little girl. And that we can't protect you from everything like we used to. And...it's _hard_. Knowing there are going to be times when you get hurt. And there isn't anything we can do to prevent it or make it better. Except… _be there_ for you."

He sees a single tear slip down her face. "I know I... _we_ screwed up tonight." She cringes at her own choice of words, but her father waves away her concerns. 

"I wouldn't say that," he says.

"I would. I just...we got carried away, you know? There's still so many... _feelings_ there."

"I get it. I do. Believe me, I know what it's like to love someone so much it makes you a little crazy. Just wait until you become a parent, then you become a _lot_ crazy."

She laughs through her tears, and takes a sip of her cocoa.

"There's also…" Mon-El starts. 

"What?" Allie wonders. 

"...I've always had a really difficult time with the fact that Earth...well, a lot of people here have...hang-ups, let's say, about sex. There's a lot of judgment, especially when you're a young woman."

"...You mean like how that guy with the gun called me a whore?" She stares down at her drink and gulps. 

"Technically he called both of us whores, but...yeah. I've always found it amazingly unfair. Not that Daxam was anything to aspire to, but at least we never ever condemned people for their sexual choices."

Fishing out a marshmallow with her spoon, she smiles. "You know, I found out some other stuff about Daxam, too. From Kelex."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"Like as High Princess of Daxam, the first born, I would have been entitled to the pick of the litter when a new brood of Garata dragons was born in the royal stables."

"That is...true, actually."

"And my crown would have been encrusted with rubies."

"Also true." 

"And I probably would have had to marry some nobleman's son. Eventually."

"Or daughter. But...yes, most definitely."

"At least there would have been a parade," she smiles. "You love those."

He laughs heartily. "You know, I'm very glad we're here on Earth together. But I would have made sure you had the best wedding parade ever, Princess."

"It's...nice hearing you call me that." She melts a little, tears threatening to re-form in her eyes. 

"Really? I stopped because you hated it."

"Well...as long as it's just... _once_ in a while."

"Okay, then, Princess…" In this moment, he doesn't think there's any force in the universe that could wipe the affectionate smile from his face. 

Until Kara shows up, marching in the front door in her supersuit, not even caring whether the neighbors might see. 

"All right now, Missy…you and I are going to have a long conversation that you will not enjoy about safe sex," she scolds. 

"What?" Allie says, discomfort and confusion warring for primacy on her face. "Why do we need to talk about that? He can't get me pregnant, and I'm immune to Earth diseases…"

Kara shakes her head. "That's not what I mean. I mean if you're going to do the deed, you need to find a place you won't get _caught!_ "

Mon-El and Allie simply gawk at her, faces entirely blank. 

"Okay," Kara continues. "Now mountaintops are good, if it's nighttime and they're not accessible by trail, but if you're with a human you have to be careful about temperature, and rocky surfaces may pose a problem. Deserts and plains aren't bad, but watch out for campers, and also wild animals like snakes and whatnot. Same goes for forests. You never know who or what might be around. Now, your Dad and I have found a few islands off the coast, uninhabited, that have served us very well." She pauses, pondering. "You know what? Let me go find a map, I'll show you."

Kara breezes out of the room, to their upstairs office, and Allie turns to her father with an incredulous look on her face. 

"Is...is she about to recommend _sex_ islands to me?"

For many years later, Mon-El would consider not bursting out in boisterous whoops of laughter at this moment to be one of his finest achievements. 

Thankfully, his phone rings before his resolve breaks.

"Yeah...you're on your own, sweetie, sorry," he chokes out.

"Oh, _come_ on!" She holds her hands out, palms up, practically begging.

"Gotta take this, pumpkin," he points to his phone, extricating himself (still limping) from the room as his daughter's pleading eyes follow him. He hears Kara return to the kitchen table, map in hand, and begin gesturing with a pencil before escalating the conversation to include motherly advice on what positions and techniques might be safest and most appropriate for mating with humans. 

Mon-El takes a deep cleansing breath and wipes away a tear that's leaked out of one eye before answering. 

"Your timing is impeccable," he sighs. 

"Uh, good?" Maggie says from the other end of the line. "I just called to thank you all for your help tonight. And make sure you were okay."

"We're fine...well, as fine as can be expected considering my daughter is currently having the most mortifying conversation of her life with Kara."

Maggie chuckles along. "Oh, to be a fly on the wall…"

"I think I would have preferred hearing the talk she just had with the Luthors, but I'll take it."

"Anyway, um...it was, uh, good seeing you guys. And meeting Allie. And I...I changed my mind. About Alex. Can you just...tell her I'm really glad for her? And that I wish her all the happiness in the world?"

"Why don't you tell her yourself? She and her family are coming over to our house for brunch tomorrow. It might be nice…for us to all hang out. As friends. Unless that's weird for _you._ Besides, least I can do is give you a home cooked meal after bleeding all over your office. And I'm sure Kara wants to thank you, too. She didn't really get the chance, what with...everything."

Maggie pauses a moment before answering. "Actually...you know what? That would be...really nice. Thank you, Mon-El. I'll, uh, see you tomorrow."

She can practically hear him smiling over the line. "See you then, Sheriff."

********

"Are you comfy, baby?" Kara says as she settles him into their bed an hour later, his bad leg freshly bandaged, propped up on a pillow, and flooded with light from a directed yellow sun lamp. 

"I'm fine, honey. The wound is already almost healed, I'm just a little sore. Be right as rain by morning."

"Good." Her expression changes from concerned to sultry in a flash, and with a whoosh of air she's standing next to the bed in the little red number from before. 

"Seriously? After everything that's happened tonight, chasing kortuxxes and our daughter held at gunpoint and me getting shot and having to have that... _talk_...I just assumed you wouldn't be up for it."

"Looks like _you're_ already getting... _up_ for it…" she gives him her patented come-hither smile. He looks down at the growing tent in his boxers and...she's not wrong. 

"Okay, that nightie...it's too much power for one woman to have." He wags a finger at her. 

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle," she whispers as she carefully straddles him. "Besides, the kids are all home now, we'll have to be quiet I'm afraid."

"No promises," he sits up and smiles into their kiss. "But thank Rao they don't have superhearing yet."

She nods in playful agreement, and meets his lips again. Sweet and tender at first, before he deepens things, grazing his hands slowly upward under the fine fabric of her garment. 

He pulls back then, trailing kisses along her jawline up to her ear, as she closes her eyes in bliss at the feel of his warm breath on her skin. 

"Just in case I haven't made it clear," he says softly, "In my whole life, there has never been, nor will there ever be, _anything_ I want more than you." 

Breathless, she pulls back, cupping his face in her hands, eyes boring into his like a wild animal staring down their prey...

…Until she attacks, pinning him down, with enough force to make the bed shake...and violently jostle his injured leg. 

"MOTHERF…" he grimaces. 

"Sorry!" his wife cringes. 

He shrugs. "Totally worth it," he barely gets out before her lips are on his again. 

Lack of superhearing notwithstanding, the kids are in for a somewhat unpleasant night.

  
  



End file.
